


The Last Man Standing Just Got Felled By A Lion

by Small_Hobbit



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Fever, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 09:03:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/835120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a nasty flu going around Oxford CID and Hathaway's been putting in long hours manning the fort. But even he is not immune to the dastardly germs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Man Standing Just Got Felled By A Lion

Hathaway stretched and eyed the piles of paperwork on his desk, trying to decide what to tackle first.  He was determined that Lewis not be overwhelmed with needless documents when he returned to work and although Innocent had asked him to just keep an eye on things during the inspector’s illness, he had every intention of ensuring that the most important papers could be sorted and dealt with first.  Regardless, that was before Innocent herself had succumbed to the flu; therefore, it was all the more essential that Lewis’ desk be well-organised upon both of their return.

In addition, Hathaway had been asked to assist DI Garrett, who had newly arrived in Oxford.  Garrett seemed to be an extremely competent policeman, but being in a new police station in a new city, he required help simply to find things.  In addition, Hathaway was trying to guarantee he didn’t needlessly upset the powers-that-be within the various colleges.  It was one thing when Lewis deliberately stepped on toes, but quite another to inadvertently do so, as it would only build up trouble for the future.  Garrett’s own sergeant, Bradshaw, had fallen in the clutches of the flu two days after Garrett’s arrival. Although he should have been back at work, a sick wife and two small children at home were taking him longer than expected to recover properly; in such an environment, he was unable to get as much rest as this particular strain of flu seem to require.

As the malady did its worst within the police ranks, Hathaway decided that he would enable Garrett to continue the investigation by writing the Inspector a list of possible contacts, along with directions as to how to find them, whilst he, Hathaway, spent the following morning sorting through the evidence from a spate of high-class, but put-on-the-backburner burglaries.  He grew increasingly frustrated with his inability to write simple directions and remember which way traffic went on some of the one-way streets.  Eventually he decided to put his head on his arms and shut his eyes, which helped him visualise the roads more clearly.  And then, as he walked down the street, he discovered that his mind would show him, every so often, a zebra or a hippo crossing the pavement, which he felt _had_ to be a mistake, although he couldn’t quite figure out why.

*****

Detective Inspector John Garrett was relatively pleased with his first couple of weeks at Oxford CID.  Granted, he wouldn’t have chosen to start just as a flu epidemic hit.  It wasn’t merely to avoid getting sick; it was also to prevent the steep learning curve that inherently came with the beginning of a new job from becoming even steeper -- as, for example, first being told to see X and then having finally tracked down the relevant office of X, discovering that X in fact was _also_ off with the flu. 

Still, Inspector Lewis’ sergeant, Hathaway, was being very helpful despite having his own guvnor out of commission.  They’d spent a very productive lunch time going through various scenarios, Hathaway providing the local knowledge as to whether they were plausible or not.  Garrett had noticed Hathaway was drinking quite a lot of water, but put that down to the sergeant being the sort who would take seriously the need to drink his five litres a day (or whatever the guidelines stated – Garrett himself was of the opinion that the best liquid intake took the form of pints of bitter). 

At a key moment, Garrett had asked Hathaway about the case that he and Lewis had been working on before the latter had taken ill.  At first, Hathaway had seemed reluctant to talk about it, but once he realised that Garrett had no intention of taking over, only gauging the sort of crimes he could expect to encounter, he gave him some details.  Having come down from Manchester, Garrett was slightly bemused at the spate of statuettes and miniatures thefts, all with an animal theme.  It reminded him of his son’s toy zoo, although Hathaway assured him that these items were far too valuable to be played with.

Garrett was surprised when Hathaway failed to provide some of the requested information, despite having phoned to remind him.  However, he put it down to the sergeant trying to do too much at once, and felt it would be unfair to complain.  He glanced at the clock and realised that it was about time to go home.  Hathaway had recently emailed him so Garrett decided to read the item through for any other pertinent details before telling the other man to go home as well.

He glanced through the first two points, which seem straight forward enough.  However, the third point “You may want to check out the giraffe.  I’m not sure its alibi holds” combined with Hathaway’s PS “I think there’s a problem with the heating; it doesn’t seem to know whether to blow hot or cold,” made Garrett pause.

Ordinarily, the new Inspector would have known who to contact if he believed a fellow officer was unwell.  In a new job, and with the likelihood that most of the HR department was also absent, he was left in a bit of a quandary.  A thought occurred to him and he made a call.

“Lewis,” the voice at the other end answered.

“Hi!” Garrett said.  “I’m sorry to disturb you when you’re not well.  It’s DI Garrett here.”

“Hello.  It’s okay, I’m feeling much better now.  What can I do for you?”

“I’m a bit concerned about Sergeant Hathaway.  I think he’s coming down with the flu and I wondered who I should speak to.  I don’t really feel it’s my position to send him home.”

“If you go and see the Chief Super, she’ll sort things out.”

“I’d thought of that, but unfortunately ...”

“She’s got it, too.”

“Correct.”

“Tell you what, I was planning to come back tomorrow.  I could call in now on the pretext of seeing how much work was piling up and check on Hathaway at the same time.”

*****

Hathaway was arguing with one of the zebras for going the wrong way down Walton Crescent when he felt a hand shaking his shoulder.

“Come on lad, time you went home,” a familiar voice said.

“I’ll be okay in a minute, sir.  I just need to sort this, err, zebra, no, no, that’s not right.”

“As I said, time to go home.”

“But you’re ill, sir.  You shouldn’t be here.”

“I am recovering, whereas it would seem that you are just going down with it.  I’ll drive.”

Lewis took Hathaway’s arm and the sergeant stood up.  He didn’t seem to have the energy to argue, so allowed himself to be led outside.  Once he was seated in the passenger seat he began to fiddle with the car heater until Lewis moved his hands away.  Finding the street lights too bright, he shut his eyes and was surprised when they stopped.  He looked around.

“This isn’t my flat.”

“No, it’s mine.  And it’s where you will be staying for the next few days so that I can keep an eye on you.”

“I’ll be fine, sir.  You managed by yourself.”

“Firstly, I had both you _and_ Laura Hobson, dropping in to check on me.  Secondly, and more importantly, if this gets on your chest, you will need medical help and I know you won’t phone the doctor until you’re about ready to be admitted to hospital.”

Hathaway got out of the car reluctantly, but since Lewis was clearly not going to drive him anywhere else, he decided to admit defeat.  Once indoors, he permitted Lewis to bully him into the spare bedroom.  He had to admit that the bed seemed enticing, so he sat down and removed his shoes and hung his jacket and tie on the back of a chair.  He thought perhaps he would allow himself to lie down for a few minutes, before insisting that Lewis take him home.  It was very important that his trousers didn’t get creased, so he took them off and put them on top of his jacket.  Then he crawled under the duvet.

The next thing Hathaway remembered was a lion trying to hug him whilst he tried to push it away.  Not that he minded being hugged by a lion, but it was very hot and its fur felt oppressive.  He supposed the lion would be used to the heat, but Hathaway wasn’t happy in it.  And then the lion had disappeared and Hathaway was looking round to see if there were any penguins.  He thought he could hear a walrus, or maybe a polar bear; it was certainly cold enough for one to appear.  He rather wished the lion was still around, he would have appreciated a hug, but it was probably too cold for it now.

*****

Garrett sat at his desk, with a cardboard cup of tea and a muffin that he had picked up on the way in, and tried to decide what to do first.  He was skimming through his emails when his phone rang.

“Garrett.”

“Hello, it’s Lewis here.  I was hoping you could return the favour.”

“I can try.  I’m not really up to speed with all the organisation here yet.”

“That’s okay.  I just need someone to put a post-it on my door saying that I’ll be in this afternoon.”

“I can do that for you.  I presume Hathaway’s got the lurgy.”

“Yes.  He had a really bad night, and we’ve had to get the doctor out for him.  I’ll be in once he’s been taken care of.”

“Is there anyone else you want me to notify?”

“I don’t know who’s in at the moment, but if you could ask someone to contact HR, that would be helpful.  I can sort the rest out this afternoon.”

“No problem.”

It seemed slightly strange to Garrett that Lewis was taking so much care of his sergeant, but what they did outside work didn’t worry him, so long as it didn’t affect their policing.  Once the rest of the force were back, he didn’t think it would take him long to found out all he needed to know in that respect.

*****

Hathaway slowly woke up and tried to make sense of his surroundings.  There was little light -- clearly it was nighttime -- but from what he could see, he wasn’t in his own bed.  Slowly, he remembered Lewis taking him somewhere -- probably his own flat -- and then he’d had what must have been some very strange dreams.  He knew they’d culminated with a lion sitting on his chest, which had been extremely painful, until a lion-tamer, no, that must have been his doctor, had arrived and the lion, or whatever it was, had been removed.  It had been lighter then, as he’d been able to see the doctor, who, in plain clothing,  had clearly not been as exotic as a lion-tamer.  Hathaway shook his head, wishing he wasn’t still feeling confused, and then regretted it as he felt it start to pound.

The door opened and Lewis came in. 

“I thought you might be awake; I could hear the bed creaking.  How are you feeling?”

“I ache.  Everywhere.”

“I’ve brought you some more tablets, which should help.  And your inhaler.  No, don’t even think of arguing; you are going to use it.  Also there’s some lemon squash.  The doc said to keep your liquid intake up.  Do you want anything to eat?”

“No, ’mkay.  Thank you.”

Having drunk the squash and used the inhaler -- Lewis was clearly not leaving the room until he had done so -- Hathaway settled back into the bed and was asleep even before the painkillers started to work.

The night passed in a blur.  He remembered waking in a panic at some point, with the lion back on his chest.  Then Lewis’ arms were helping him to sit up, his hand holding the inhaler for him.  More tablets and squash later, Lewis was helping him out of his damp t-shirt and into a clean one.  A murmur of a low voice followed and he was lying down again and drifting away.

Hathaway woke to light shining through the curtains.  His head, although still sore, felt much clearer than it had for the last couple of days.  He started to get out of bed, but then stopped, surprised at how shaky and weak he felt.

Lewis came into the room.  “Just where do you think you’re going?  I’ll give you a hand to the bathroom.”

Feeling rather embarrassed, Hathaway accepted the help and tried not to blush when Lewis said “I’ll let you go in by yourself, but _do not_ lock the door.  I really don’t want to have to break it down when you fall over.”

Having relieved himself, Hathaway allowed Lewis to help him back to bed.  The older man then disappeared and returned shortly afterwards with some cereal and orange juice.

“I’m going in to work for a bit,” Lewis said.  “You are to stay here and remain in bed.  Can I trust you to do that, or have I got to phone up Dr Hobson and ask her to come and babysit?”

A confused Hathaway didn’t know which of the two-part question he was expected to answer but found that nodding seemed to hurt less than shaking his head.

“Good.  I’ll leave everything you need by your bedside.  If you have any problems, phone me.  And just to keep you out of mischief, there’s a book that details all of those miniature animal statues that have been stolen.  It might give us some insight into the case.”

Hathaway waited until Lewis had left the flat before picking up the book.  He might have resented the command to stay in bed, but if he was honest with himself, he had found the trip to the bathroom took too much effort, so the mere thought of even moving around the flat made him weary.  He read the first few pages and then decided to put the book down so that he could mentally order the various thefts in his mind.  The next thing he knew, Lewis was back and it was lunch-time.

 


End file.
